


on nights so cold, i know you need some company

by kkamikaze



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix It Fic, Gen, Mentions of Suicide, Other, Swearing, There isn't a lot of kleinsen in this ngl, bc of the canon in canon divergence, just a tiny bit of pining from jared's end if you squint, right after 'words fail', this is gonna be apart of a series that is eventually kleinsen though so!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21657301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkamikaze/pseuds/kkamikaze
Summary: The glaring white of the document is casting a sickly glare onto his face. It had nearly blinded him earlier when he first opened his laptop, his eyes taking well over a minute to adjust to the new source of light. He’s still had yet to adjust to the words on the page, however.Dear Evan Hansen, it turns out that today wasn’t an amazing day after all.He’s probably read this over at least twenty times, now.
Relationships: Evan Hansen & Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen/Jared Kleinman
Comments: 16
Kudos: 180





	on nights so cold, i know you need some company

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all!! uh ,, this is my first ever fic ever wow  
> i've really always wanted to write something like this - jared reading 'The Note' and immediately being like '... excuse me' bc the idea that he and evan don't talk for years??? am not here for that (even if it's incredibly likely bc these boys are fucking terrible at communication) 
> 
> i want this to be series maybe??? but we'll see !!! 
> 
> thank you for taking the time to read !! <333 pls lmk what you think !!  
> (also i'm kkamikazed on tumblr if you wanna throw hands :'D )

Jared doesn’t know how long he spends staring at the PDF opened up on his laptop screen. 

It’s at least long enough for Duck to hop onto his bed and try to get his attention by nudging her head into his side and kneading at one of his thighs, before eventually giving up and flopping down next to him with an indignant huff, but even then Jared can’t seem to look away from the screen for even a second. 

The glaring white of the document is casting a sickly glare onto his face. It had nearly blinded him earlier when he first opened his laptop, his eyes taking well over a minute to adjust to the new source of light. He’s still had yet to adjust to the words on the page, however. 

_Dear Evan Hansen, it turns out that today wasn’t an amazing day after all._

He’s probably read this over at least twenty times, now. 

And, like.. he knew what he _should_ do, he knew that he _should_ just close the tab and then close his laptop and forget he even saw it, or at the very least not _care_ that he saw it, because he _didn’t_ care anymore, _he didn’t care,_ he had no obligation to care, but like.. 

Well.

It’s kinda complicated. 

So Jared wasn’t apart of The Connor Project anymore. He hadn’t been for a while, really — not since Evan not-so-vaguely insisted that he didn’t actually need Jared for it anymore, but then subsequently got pissed at him for doing nothing. After that, it was kind of a wordless agreement between all three of them - him, Evan, and Alana - that he was just.. done. In Alana’s eyes, his ‘position’ probably wasn’t one that was needed, not when she could just easily pick up his job, and between him and Evan, it’s not like any more emails needed to be written. Evan already got what he wanted and seemingly had nothing else to prove to anyone. Jared wasn’t needed to keep this shitty little facade going anymore.

Which, y’know, was perfectly fine with him. This shit was already way out of hand, and he didn’t want to take the fall with them when the whole world found out that Evan pretended to be besties with Connor fucking Murphy, and planted this entire apple orchard’s worth of lies about their secret stupid make-believe friendship with each other. And, well, if Evan really didn’t ever face the consequences for this shit, then at the very least Jared didn’t want to meddle in his new perfect fantasy life with the Murphy’s and his popularity and Zoe and whatever the fuck. Of course not.

So in theory, he should’ve been ignoring any and all updates to The Connor Project. Because it didn’t involve him anymore. He didn’t _care_. He didn’t care about Connor, he didn’t care about the kickstarter, and he definitely didn’t care about Evan or whatever he was doing now. 

In theory. 

But.. okay, when you see an email notification pop up with a new thread from the TCP website entitled “Connor’s Suicide Note”, it’s not entirely unreasonable for your fucking stomach to drop, right? Or at the very least, like. Your interest to pique. In maybe a horrible, terrible, kind of awful way. Like being unable to look away from a car crash where you don’t know if the people inside the car are going to survive. 

The thread is a little over eighteen hours old and already has thousands of comments on it. God, why was Jared seeing this so late?

What was concerning about it from the get-go was that this was allegedly an email — or it was in the format of an email, anyway. Evan sometimes wrote the emails on his own, but mostly just like.. the ones that were from him to Connor. Or ones that were boring enough that he didn’t worry about his take on Connor sounding unrealistic without Jared’s input (even though none of this was fucking realistic anyway, it never was). But even then, he usually sends them Jared’s way afterwards so he can backdate them. 

Jared has _never_ seen this one. Jared definitely didn’t write it. 

_This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year, because.. why would it be?_

This had to be Evan. Which. 

Jared takes a deep, slow breath, calculated, the exhale leaving him sort of shaky. 

Okay. He was pissed off at Evan. A little over a week ago, they had this whole screaming match that lead to Jared maybe possibly storming out of Evan’s house and like, maybe possibly crying a little when he got home. He and Evan were obviously not on very good terms right now. He has no idea where they stand, but he _does_ know that he definitely doesn’t think too highly of him at the moment for more reasons than one.

But he really, really doesn’t want to believe that Evan faked a letter from Connor Murphy about his suicide, addressed to him. He doesn’t. He knows Evan - regardless of if either of them wants to even believe that - and he knows that Evan is not that shitty of a person. He’s not.

Right?

Like, the thought genuinely sort of makes Jared feel a little sick. Evan being so desperate for interest that he pretends to write a fucking suicide note. It’s sick. Jared is far from a great person, but _fuck_ , he couldn’t even really fathom taking it that far if this were him. So Evan doing it, is..

Jared swallows hard and shakes his head. 

Not believable. It’s not realistic. 

But what else could it be? 

He tries to wrack his brain for any other possible fucking explanation. Could Evan have told Alana about this whole thing, about the lies and about the emails and about Connor, and gotten her in on it? Did she write it? Did she suggest he write it? Jared can’t say that he knows Alana, not really, so he can’t exactly vouch for her morals being entirely well-intentioned. He doesn’t know. Maybe she realized that she was already too far in and just wanted a surefire way to know that this wouldn’t end in disaster or disappointment. That her time wasn’t wasted. 

But really, that _also_ doesn’t seem very realistic. 

The comments on the thread, nor Alana’s message before the transcript of the note, help him decipher anything. Literally no one other than him and Evan know the truth about the true authors of these fucking emails, so literally the only person he could ask about this is Evan, which. Is not really ideal right now. 

Duck makes a frustrated mewl as Jared shifts so he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, the bottom of his laptop nearly burning his lap from how long it’s been on now. He just wants to fucking _understand_. What other possible reason could this letter exist other than Evan possibly being a scumbag? 

He reads it over a couple more times. And then a few more times after that. It’s definitely Evan’s writing, he eventually decides, because it’s written in the same way that Evan wrote his other letters, just with how it’s worded or whatever. Which rules out the possibility that it was Alana. 

After muling it over for another several minutes, he remembers that Evan probably couldn’t make up the fact that Connor had a suicide note that the Murphy’s didn’t know about previously. This had to have been something that Evan made a while ago, or at least before now, because his family - as apparently gullible as they are - most likely wouldn’t believe that Evan just had Connor’s suicide note and waited to show it til now. Or just.. stumbled upon it randomly, or something.

And.. well. The Murphy’s has to have seen something like a suicide note before all of this began that lead them to Evan in the first place, right? They didn’t just find him because of the _‘CONNOR’_ scribbled on his cast like he was a fucking lunchbox, they found a note that mentioned Evan, too, and he vaguely remembers Evan telling him as much, and..

..and Evan had written a note before that Jared didn’t see. The one that Connor took from him in the computer lab. 

That they found in Connor’s pocket.

That they thought was a.. 

Jared feels his heart stop. 

_I wish that everything was different._

No, no, wait, that couldn’t.. 

_I wish that I was apart of.. something._

That couldn’t be fucking right, it..

_Face it, would anyone even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?_

He slams his laptop shut. Duck leaps up from her spot and scurries out of his room.

“Fuck,” he whispers, trembling hands sort of resting on the top of his laptop. “ _Fuck_..” 

Four months of context clues suddenly fucking slams into him all at once. The weird way Evan got so, so connected to this made up story about Connor being his best friend. The speech. The fucking words that he said, the words people all over Twitter were quoting and retweeting over and over again - ‘you will be found’ and ‘no one deserves to disappear’. Everything. 

The feeling of maybe figuring it out, believe it or not, does not make Jared feel at all accomplished. He feels, coincidentally, even more sick. 

Evan didn’t write Connor’s suicide note. Evan wrote his own suicide note and it found it’s way into Connor Murphy’s hoodie pocket. 

But.. 

Jared doesn’t know that for sure. 

He doesn’t know what he wants to be the truth right now, honestly. 

Given by the fact that his head is still sort of spinning and he can’t make the heavy, awful feeling in his gut go away like he knows some awful, dirty secret, he figures that he needs to know for sure. 

Taking a breath, Jared slowly moves the laptop off his lap and turns his eyes to his nightstand where his phone is charging. 

Evan hates phone calls, and Jared is pretty sure this conversation needs to happen in person, but. 

He reaches for his phone. At the very least, he should probably give him a heads up first. 

It takes him a second to navigate to his contacts and click Evan’s name, the nerves of just.. fucking, _something_ , making him feel shaky and uneasy and stupidly unnerved. Jesus. He doesn’t know how the hell Evan deals with this all the time. 

It only rings twice before he picks up, which is.. a surprise. 

There’s a quiet sound of shuffling, and then a pause. “.. _H-Hello_?” Jared isn’t sure if it’s his imagination or not, but just from the one word he’s heard, Evan’s voice sounds weirdly crackly. Like he’s been sleeping. Or crying. 

“Hi,” Jared says, almost a bit sharply - surprisingly in a way that’s mostly unintentional. “We need to talk. Like, right now.” 

Evan doesn’t reply right away, making a sort of breathy, choked noise like he wasn’t expecting that. Which. Y’know, probably fair. Eventually though, he clears his throat. “ _U-Uh. I. Okay._ ” A little pause, then, “ _Like, um,_ right now _-right now?_ ”

“No Evan, like later-right now,” Jared snapped, rolling his eyes hopefully loud enough that Evan can hear it through the phone. “I was gonna come over,” he continues as he’s lacing up his sneakers. “It’s - this is too serious for us to just talk about over Skype, so.” 

“ _Look, Jared, if it’s - if this is about what I said a couple days ago, then I really —_ ” 

“It’s not about that,” Jared cuts him off, and he’s sure that it’s a good thing that he did, because he had an inkling that whatever was coming next in Evan’s sentence was going to piss him off. “It’s the letter, we’ll talk about it when I get there, bye,” he says before Evan can ask him what it’s about, and hanging up. Which might’ve been a dick move on his part, giving someone with anxiety such a vague forewarning that they’ll have time to dwell over, but. Whatever. Evan would get over it. 

  
  


“Going somewhere?” 

Jared’s still blinking several times when he gets to the bottom of the stairs to try to adjust to the even brighter lights in the living room, eventually glancing over to the couch where Amorette is. It looks like she was _trying_ to fold laundry, judging by the basket of clothes sitting to her left and the pile of clothes to her right, but Duck has since curled up on top of the pile and is flicking her tail in the telltale way she does when she’s ready to pounce on the first person that tries to move her. Jared thinks Amorette might’ve given up, judging by how she was now currently flipping idly through Netflix titles.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Evan’s.” 

“ _Evan’s?”_ She repeats, and Jared resists the urge to wince at her surprised tone. He may or may not have avoided talking much about the other boy in the past month or so, ever since his whole thing with Zoe started.

“Yeah,” he says again, clearing his throat. “We’re working on this thing for Spanish.” He manages a glance at his phone to check the time. A little after six. “It won’t take too long. I’ll be back before dinner, probably.” 

“Gotcha. I’ll let your mom know.” She glances towards the window where it’s already pretty dark outside and then frowns, tilting her head back against the back of the couch to look at Jared. “Be safe, okay? And wear a _coat_ , it’s cold.”

“I will,” he’s saying as he’s crossing behind the couch, and Amorette manages to snag his wrist and tug on his arm until he heaves a faux overly dramatic sigh and leans down enough for her to mess with the collar of his shirt and press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Seriously. Be careful. Black ice is a bitch.” 

“I’ve been driving for two years now, y’know _—_ ” 

“I know, _I know_.” 

After telling Amorette bye and reaching over the couch to poke Duck’s head (she tries to bite him), Jared tugs his keys off the hook by the door, shrugs his coat on, and steps outside. And sure enough, it’s fucking cold as shit, so he makes quick work of unlocking his car and getting in to avoid the biting January air. 

In the past, it’s always been pretty convenient that Evan lived so close to him - before Jared could drive and their friendship was.. different, he walked over to Evan’s house all the time, and he remembered that it never really took that long. The drive was probably five minutes _max,_ and right now he only wishes it was just a bit longer.

How is he even supposed to approach any of this? Like, does he go in assuming the worst, so in case it’s true, Evan doesn’t have the opportunity to dive for an out? Because obviously, if Jared offers him an easier way to explain himself, explain this fucking note, then obviously he’s going to just take it without question and roll with it — source: the principal’s office a little over five months ago.

But, again. The idea of this being Evan’s note, Evan’s writing and Evan’s _thoughts_ , Jared.. 

..Fuck. Jared actually really doesn’t want to dwell on it until the moment it’s confirmed, actually. So he’s not going to. 

  
  


He’d been counting on having a second to just sit outside of Evan’s house and like, collect himself, figure out what the hell he wanted to say, but because the universe apparently hates him, Evan is sitting outside on his porch step when Jared pulls up to the curb by his house. 

Fucking great. 

He’s also only wearing a hoodie, from what Jared can see, which is mildly concerning. It’s like, twenty-five degrees outside. 

He looks away though and still takes a second to just take a breath. This is fine. Either he’s going to have a long-winded conversation about what the fuck that letter meant and why Evan didn’t _say_ anything about feeling like he wasn’t seen when he so _obviously was,_ or this was going to be a two minute conversation in which Jared gets his answer, climbs right back into his car, and probably never talks to Evan ever again. 

He forces himself to take another breath. Jesus Christ. 

After a couple long moments of bargaining with himself, Jared reluctantly shuts off his car and hops out, immediately missing the heat once he’s shutting the door and walking away from his car. He shoves his keys in his pocket, and when he looks up towards the porch again Evan is looking back at him. 

Welp. There was officially no turning back now. 

“Hi,” Jared manages as he’s walking towards the porch, tone anything but a warm greeting. Evan doesn’t even say anything back, just looking away and raising a hand halfheartedly. Which for some reason just kinda pisses Jared off, but. Whatever. 

Even after Jared’s standing in front of the porch for a long enough of a moment, Evan still doesn’t say anything else or make any sort of move like he’s going to stand up and invite Jared inside. So Jared sort of clears his throat and stuffs his hands in his coat pockets, raising a brow. “So, is there any reason why you’re just sitting out here, or?” 

It takes a long second for Evan to respond, as he’s resorted to awkwardly fiddling with one of his hoodie strings. “I, um. I don’t have my keys, so I’m kinda. Locked out.” 

Jared resists the urge to scream.

What the _fuck,_ universe? 

“Oh,” is what he says instead, but he doesn’t hide the way his tone is completely deflated flat in unamusement, and Evan visibly sort of cringes at it. “Where are they? Are they inside your house?” 

“It’s - no, I.. I left them at the Murphy’s.” It wasn’t just Jared’s imagination over the phone, now that he listens to Evan speak. His voice is definitely weirdly gravelly, but in person it sounds a little less like he’s been crying and more like he’s been _screaming,_ which is.. again, mildly concerning. 

Not that he cares, he has to remind himself. 

“You left them at _— ”_ Jared frowns and tilts his head. “Can’t you go get them? It’s not a long walk, right?” 

Evan says nothing to that. He sort of just.. blinks a couple times at Jared and then looks at his feet with a shrug. 

And then Jared sees his eyes well up before he turns his face to the side so he can’t see him at all. 

Cool. Jared won’t ask. So they’re just gonna have this conversation outside, then. 

Heaving a sigh, Jared plops down onto the porch step next to Evan. Out of the corner of his eye, Evan is still, but after a few seconds he turns so he’s facing forward again, presumably because he’s not in danger of.. whatever that was, anymore. 

They don’t say anything for a while. Or, better yet, Jared doesn’t say anything for a while, because he guesses Evan doesn’t really have an obligation to say anything when Jared was the one who demanded that they talk. But. 

He really fucking _hated_ confrontation, okay, that much was a fact, but the few times where he _did_ force himself to do it, he was usually able to just.. do it. Because whatever the driving force was, it managed to push him off enough to just say what he needed to say. He wasn’t really one to beat around the issue because that was just annoying and tedious and painful. 

But, like. For one, as much as he needed an answer, part of him also didn’t want one.

And, well, he just.. really had no idea how to start. 

“Soooo. Connor’s suicide note.” 

That was probably the worst way to do it, but he was impatient and could kick himself for it later. 

Evan cringes and swallows thickly. He still won’t look at Jared. “Yeah?” 

And, like. He’s pretty sure it’s just because he’s already mad at Evan for other shit, but the fact that he’s just going to be nonchalant like there’s no problem in this is kind of _frustrating_ (that is, if it’s the shitty possibility that’s the true one - but even if it’s not, Evan has to see how badly this _looks_ from where Jared’s seeing it, right?)

He turns so he’s looking at Evan. “Yeah.” He says, sharply, hoping his tone is as biting as this fucking air. “ _Connor’s_ suicide note. That Alana posted on the website. You know that one?” Evan curls inwards a little. Jared isn’t sure if it’s because of the cold or if it’s because of him, but he doesn’t care either way. 

He doesn’t say anything, so he keeps going. “Right. I know you’ve clearly lost all sense of right-and-wrong, going off of, oh, cerca, the past couple months,” he crosses his arms over his lap, hands curling up into fists. “but like - writing Connor’s fake suicide note? What the hell is _wrong_ with you?” 

_Tell me I’m wrong. Please tell me I’m fucking wrong._

But he doesn’t. So Jared keeps going.

“Like, you’ve made it pretty clear that you think I’m a piece of shit, but Jesus _fucking_ Christ, dude,” he closes his eyes tight and barks out a laugh, inwardly begging for Evan to cut him off, for _something._ “If I would’ve known before that your dedication to ‘helping the Murphy’s’ meant defacing someone’s fucking _death_ , I wouldn’t have ever agreed to help you _—_ ” 

“Since when do _you_ care about defacing Connor?” Evan snaps, suddenly turns to face him, and. Jared really had hoped his first words in response to all of that would’ve been _anything_ else. “Since when have you _ever_ cared about defacing Connor? You were mean to him just like everyone else was when he was alive, and you - you made all sorts of awful jokes about him when we first started writing the emails _—_ ”

“Don’t fucking make this about me, Evan, that’s _—_ ”

“ _—_ And didn’t you sell buttons, too? With his face on it? You literally profited on the fact that he wasn’t alive anymore, so _—_ ” 

“ _—_ That’s _not_ what that was, and _—_ ” Jesus fuck, Jared was so mad that he could hardly _see_ . He grits his teeth and _glares_ hard at Evan. “ _—_ And that’s not the same thing as pretending to be him writing his last words to someone he didn’t even fucking _know!”_

Evan loses momentum from that immediately, something in his expression faltering. He wilts back away from Jared. “I - I didn’t _—_ ”

“What I did didn’t give his grieving family a fucking false reality of what was going through their kid’s head, okay?” 

“N-No, you don’t _—_ ” 

“ _No,_ I do get it!” He turns on the step so his body is completely facing Evan now. If there was any space left next to him, he was sure the other boy would be trying to scoot away from him. “I get that you wanted to get your bullshit kickstarter to the goal so your fake little family would love you _even_ more than they already do, so your solution was to fucking broadcast to the world that apparently in his dying moments, Connor Murphy thought of _you_ and wanted _you_ to know how shit his life was, so don’t tell _me_ that I’m defacing _anyone_ when you _—_ ” 

“Shut up, shut _up_ , okay, just fucking _—_ ” 

“What, Evan, fucking _what?!”_

“That wasn’t _me_ trying to be _Connor_ , Jared, it - it was me being - being _me,_ okay?!” The anger almost completely sizzles out before the end of his sentence, and Evan’s tone is left almost only an awful mix of hysteria and.. hurt. His eyes are wide and he’s _shaking,_ and in Jared’s state of whiplash after going from anger to horrified shock he can’t tell if it’s because he’s shivering from the cold or from the fact that he might have a panic attack. 

And like. 

It shouldn’t be shocking. Not really.

Jared fully came to this revelation himself already, right? That the letter was the one Evan wrote in the computer lab? It shouldn’t feel like a fucking kick to his chest that it’s actually _real,_ that it’s really the truth, but. 

Somewhere between staring horrified at his laptop and staring horrified at Evan as tears trickle down his face, he inwardly internalized the fact that it was just easier to be mad at him. Because he already _was_ mad at him, for liking a fictional version of Connor more than him, for liking Zoe more than him, for abandoning him for the Murphy’s, for calling him out on accounts that were fucking _true_ in actuality, for somehow being the only person Jared talked to and leaving him like it was the easiest thing in the world, for not being able to read his mind and see these things without Jared saying them out loud. 

He could get over Evan if he had a reason to think he was fucking _awful,_ and that’d be _easier_ , but. 

“Wh.. What?” Jared eventually manages to get out, weakly, his eyes still wide. 

“It..” Evan’s breath catches and he shakes his head, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “My - My therapy letter, that he took, d’you remember?” 

There it is. 

Jared feels like he’s been kicked again. 

“I - yeah?” 

Evan swallows hard, keeping his eyes closed and tilting his head down. “That was what Alana posted, it was - that was mine, it - I guess it was in his pocket, I don’t know, but that’s what they - what the Murphy’s thought was his suicide note, that’s why they came to me in the first place, that’s the whole fucking reason any of this _happened,_ was a dumb therapy assignment that _—_ ” He laughs, cracked and frayed and _broken_ and gestures weakly towards himself, “ _—_ _obviously,_ didn’t work,” Just as abruptly as it started, the laugh dies immediately back into a weak sob, and he shakes his head. 

Jared.. really, genuinely, doesn’t know what to say. Both in regards to what Evan just said, and also towards the fact that Evan is having a bit of trouble breathing through crying. He can only just stare at him in panic, his brain refusing to allow him to do anything than just process what’s happening. And, like, he’d rather be doing _anything_ but that, right now. 

“I begged Alana not to post it,” Evan keeps going, probably because he’s taking Jared’s silence as something that it’s not. “I just - I only showed it to her because she was starting to question me and Connor being friends - and I know that’s shitty, I know that I shouldn’t have - have done that anyway and I-I’m _sorry_ , I’m sorry, I - it was wrong, all of this is _wrong,_ I _—_ ”

“Evan _—”_

“And I tried to get her to take it down, but she wouldn’t listen to me, she still won’t answer my calls and I don’t - I don’t know what to do, the Murphy’s are getting so much fucking backlash for something that - that’s not even _them,_ and it’s all my fault, and they’re probably - they’re going to tell everyone that it was all a lie, I don’t see why they _wouldn’t_ _—”_

“Wait, Evan, _what_ _—”_

“I brought this all on myself but I - I don’t know what to _do,_ how am I supposed to go back to school, how am I going to explain this to my _mom_ when she finds out? Everyone’s - Everyone is going to _hate me_ —” 

“ _Evan,_ fucking _-_ stop, _stop_ ,” Jared’s hands shoot out to grab Evan’s because he’s seconds away from clawing at his own _face_ , and Jesus fuck his hands are so _cold_ . He instinctively sort of scoots closer and holds their hands between them, squeezing as tightly at Evan’s as he thinks he can without hurting him, trying to ground him the best he can for the moment. Even after being interrupted, Evan’s still breathing in, like, bursts, choking on himself and hiccuping every so often. The whole time he was talking he was talking so _fast_ , so on top of being out of breath from that, it’s not like he can get in a good breath _now._

And it’s probably been close to, like.. a _year_ since Jared’s winded Evan down from a panic attack - not that while he was actually practiced at it, he was really any good. 

It’s not like his presence is probably all that comforting, either, given that he was sort of yelling at Evan not too long ago, but. 

“Evan, hey,” he tries again, shakily untangling their hands so he can hold Evan’s wrists instead. He hasn’t tried _this_ specifically since they were probably, like, fourteen or fifteen, but he remembered it working well back then, so maybe it still would — also, he was trying to just wrack his brain for _literally_ anything before Evan freaking asphyxiated on himself on his own porch step. 

He presses one of Evan’s hands flat against his own chest, right in the center - he considers placing it over his heart, but he figures the rapid _thudthudthud_ of his heartbeat right now wouldn’t really do anything to help Evan calm down — and for a lack of anything else to do, awkwardly slips the fingers of his other hand between the fingers of Evan’s unoccupied hand. 

He gives his hand a squeeze. “Ev. Hey. Look at me.” It’s probably the first time in.. not only today, but probably a while since he’s managed to talk this gently to Evan, who only swallows thickly and shuts his eyes tighter, coughing harshly around a sob. Jared frowns and squeezes his hand again. “Okay, that’s fine. It’s okay. Just - breathe, with me, yeah? Like this?” He takes a slow, steady breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting go of it. “Like before, when we - you remember?” He does it again, squeezing Evan’s hand as he does so. “C’mon.” 

Evan, likewise, seems to be a little tentative to the idea too, given the way his hand twitches on Jared’s chest like he’s about to pull away. But he doesn’t. 

And it definitely takes a lot longer than it would’ve taken when they were younger and this was over a presentation or a dream or, hell, even _nothing at all_ , and they end up having to start over a few times because Evan hiccups or coughs, and the air is thin and cold and probably not the best temperature for someone to start having trouble breathing in, but. They get it, eventually. 

Jared watches Evan’s face for a few seconds afterwards. He’s looking at his lap, expression.. not really readable, and even though his breath has since sort of returned to normal he hasn’t let go of either of Jared’s hands. There’s still a few tears happening, but Evan is quiet. 

After neither of them talk for longer than Jared realizes, Evan looks up at him. Jared doesn’t know how it surprises him that Evan’s eyes are so red, but here he is, surprised. He clears his throat awkwardly. “Hi.” 

Evan sniffs, obviously still visibly a bit miserable — he tugs the hand pinned to Jared’s chest away, and although his grasp sort of weakens on Jared’s other hand, he doesn’t let go of it just yet. “Hey.” Unsurprisingly, he breaks eye contact first, opting to look out in front of them, as if the icy street in front of his house is anything interesting to look at. 

A small stretch of quiet. For a lack of anything else to do, he gives Evan’s hand a small squeeze. “Are you okay?” 

Evan squeezes his hand back, voice quiet. “No.” 

Maybe that was a stupid question. “I figured.”

It’s quiet for a while again. Evan is shivering pretty violently, but this time it’s probably just purely out of being cold, so Jared doesn’t scoot away and doesn’t let go of the hand that they still have between them. The sound of crickets is the only thing that keeps him from dissolving completely into his own head. (Mostly him mulling over the fact that crickets are fucking out and about in this cold, shitty weather.)

Eventually though, he quietly clears his throat again in an attempt to get Evan’s attention back. “So, um. They know, then?” 

Evan nods. “Yeah.”

“Everything?” 

“Everything.” He sighs, shakily. “I.. I couldn’t do it anymore. Just.” He seems to stare out in front of him at something intently, like his words are floating out in the open and he just needs to find them, before he gives up and shakes his head, glances up at Jared. “The comments, about the - the note, were, um. Really awful. I don’t know if you read them. And they — his parents, and Zoe, they were blaming each other for it, for him..” He winces and ends that thought. “And I just. Couldn’t.”

“And this all happened tonight?”

“Yeah. Like, an hour before you got here.”

“Right,” Jared acknowledges quietly, nodding. That.. probably explained why Evan wasn’t willing to go back to get his keys. And also why he already looked like a trainwreck before he and Jared even started talking. He frowns, glancing down at their hands. 

“Do you think they’re actually gonna tell anyone?” 

Evan takes a breath like he’s going to say something, and then doesn’t. Starts over. “I.. I really don’t know,” He admits, his voice small. 

“Hopefully they don’t, but like.” He scoffs, the sound empty. “At least we go down together, shit.” 

He figures the silence is just Evan agreeing with him, but after a moment Evan turns to look at him. When Jared meets his eyes, he looks.. confused? 

“What do you mean?” 

Jared shrugs. “I mean, I had just as big of a part in it that you did. I wrote a lot of the emails, I backdated them, which is.. probably kind of illegal,” It _is_ illegal. Jared didn’t know how to backdate emails until a little before they started all of this because he had to teach himself how. “I don’t see why they wouldn’t rat me out too _—_ ” 

“No, I - I didn’t tell them about _you._ ” 

Jared blinks, and.. wait, what? “Huh?” 

Evan shakes his head slowly, sitting up a bit to turn and face Jared again. “I didn’t tell them about you,” he repeats. “I - by ‘everything’, I meant everything with, like. The note. And my arm, and how he and I weren’t friends? I didn’t say anything about you. They don’t even know you were in on it.” 

He figures he must still be making a face, because Evan’s expression sort of just softens before he looks away again with a shrug. “This was my - like. My whole mess. Not yours. There wasn’t really any reason to bring you into it.” 

And, like. That’s probably true, but. 

Still. 

Even after their fight, Evan didn’t throw him under the bus when he easily could’ve, which.. was something. 

“Uh, well thanks,” Jared sort of blurts out, and it sounds dumb and kind of awkward and it manages to make Evan laugh. 

“Don’t mention it.” 

Another long stretch of silence goes by. One of Jared’s legs is asleep. Evan’s scratching some weird sort of pattern against the palm of his hand with his thumb. The crickets have started to quiet down. 

“I, um. I thought you were supposed to be mad at me,” Evan says that so quietly that Jared almost doesn’t hear him, and he has to blink and almost allow his brain an extra couple seconds to reprocess what it was that Evan said. 

And.. maybe if it were over something else, or maybe if Jared hadn’t gotten so torn up about it to begin with, or maybe if Jared was a better person he would’ve said something else, something kinder, but.. 

“I am,” he replies honestly, just as quietly, and it sounds really fucking stupid and kind of hilarious because his fingers are still intertwined loosely with Evan’s. 

“Then why..?” Evan sort of looks him up and down, and then furrows his brow. “Why are you still here? Why didn’t you - like - just get the answer you wanted and then leave?” 

“Just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, asshole,” Jared quips, shrugging, and now _he_ might be the one refusing to look at Evan, but whatever. 

“Oh,” Evan murmurs, and Jared can _feel_ him looking at him. 

He was perfectly fine with just letting that statement speak for itself, but Evan is still looking at him, and eventually Jared begrudgingly shifts a little so he’s turned towards him. 

“Look, I - part of me, like. I sort of had a hunch that you weren’t a completely garbage person and wrote that just to get clout for The Connor Project,” 

“Thanks,” Evan echoes, and Jared rolls his eyes. 

“But I just - like..” It’s harder to say this shit out loud when Evan is actually here, physically, and is real, and they’re talking civilly with each other. Post their fight, he was probably able to spill pages upon pages about how he felt about Evan, but now he was getting fucking tongue tied. He groans in frustration, shaking his head. “Fuck, just..” Evan just gives his hand another squeeze, and that honestly doesn’t really help. Jared sighs quietly. 

“I’m still mad at you, and I don’t know when I won’t be anymore,” he says slowly. “But when I saw your note on the page and, like.. considered that that was how _you_ felt, it was.. a lot. And I..” 

He looks down at their hands. Evan’s knuckles are slightly calloused. He keeps his eyes trained there because it’s a little easier then keeping his eyes on Evan’s face. 

“I know I haven’t been, like.. the greatest friend, and I’ve said some stupid shit, and I get if you don’t really buy into any of this, but the idea that you - you _felt_ like that, and you didn’t feel like you could say anything to me about it was sorta.. I don’t know? Scary? It scared me. I didn’t really want to believe it. So, like, until I heard it from you, I just. Didn’t.” He breathes out a shaky sigh. “But that’s - that’s whatever, and - it doesn’t matter if we’re fighting right now, I obviously, like - I don’t want you to fucking _disappear,_ Evan, okay? You know that, right?” 

Evan says nothing to that, which kinda stings in and of itself. When Jared risks a quick glance up, he sorta just stares back at Jared with this expression, eyebrows pulled together, bottom lip pulled slightly in between his teeth. Jared frowns and squeezes his hand. 

“I _don’t_ ,” he just reassures again. “I don’t, and I promise you I’d fucking _notice,_ alright?”

He’s worried that Evan is just not going to say anything again, but eventually he manages a quiet sigh and shifts uncomfortably on the step. “It wasn’t just you who didn’t know, I.. I didn’t really talk about that with anyone. The note.” 

“I get that,” Jared says quietly. “I still should’ve at least noticed that something was wrong.” 

“It’s fine, Jared. Really. Nobody else did either—” 

“Yeah, but you’re my _—” My best friend, the one person that makes everything feel okay most of the time, the one person who still talks to me despite me being a huge jackass most of the time._ None of that comes out, of course, because fuck vulnerability, and Jared sighs, eyes skewing shut. “You’re my friend, I should’ve, like.. I don’t know. I should’ve seen that _something_ was up.” 

Evan has some sort of unreadable look on his face _—_ there’s nothing inherently intimidating about it, but it still makes Jared want to shrink back a little. Eventually, Evan settles with just nodding, looking away from Jared again. “Thanks.” 

Jared’s not sure that that’s the appropriate response to that _—_ nor does he think that even if it was, that Jared deserves to be thanked necessarily. Knowing Evan, it’s probably just an Anxiety Filler Response, so Jared sort of just shakes his head and continues despite that. 

“Do you, um _—_ do you still feel like that?” 

There’s a little wince, and Evan had looked away before and sort of gives Jared a sideway distressed sort of look now. The ‘thanks’ was probably an Anxiety Filler Response meant to end that conversation. Still, Jared sort of needs to know the answer to this, so he says nothing. Evan sighs, blinking several times and again turning his eyes away from Jared.

“I don’t know.” 

Normally, Jared would probably try to coax out, like, a less ambiguous answer, but gauging on the look on Evan’s face right now and how quietly he even managed to just say what he had, Jared’s sure that any more prodding will throw him into another panic attack. So he settles with just nodding once, turning his eyes away as well. 

“Well,” Jared shakes his head. “Just know that you being alive it sort of something I care about, even if I’m bad at showing it,” he furrows his brow at nothing. “And even if I’m still kinda fucked up about our fight.” He probably could’ve worded that in a _much_ less vulnerable manner, but oh well. “Those are separate things altogether.” He makes a gesture with his other hand. “Different planes and shit.” 

Evan’s mouth quirks up into the tiniest of amused grins, which Jared considers a tiny victory. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. So. No disappearing.” 

“Alright.” 

“I’m serious.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll kick your ass. That’s a promise.” 

“Shit, wouldn’t want that.” 

For the first time this evening, the quiet that settles over them isn’t stifling or awful or awkward. Even with all things considered, maybe it should be, but nothing about them ever really made sense. The street lights had already been on before Jared had gotten here _—_ after all, it was winter, so that meant it started getting dark at like, 5 in the afternoon, but now they seemed even brighter than they were before.

And, as you’d think, it was starting to feel a _lot_ fucking colder, too. Jared had sort of lost feeling in his nose, and Evan was starting to shiver so much it was more like he was kind of vibrating. Which reminded him: 

“Did you leave your coat at their house, too?” Jared asks, not-so-nonchalantly scooting maybe a couple inches closer to Evan, as if the barely changed proximity would keep him any warmer. “Because a hoodie is _not_ proper winter wear when it’s this fuckin’ cold.”

“Oh, no,” Evan admits, grinning sheepishly back at Jared. “I, um. I just forgot to grab it from my room before I left earlier.” 

Jared snorts, raising his brows and letting a crooked smile make its way to his face. “ _Oh_.” 

“Yeah. My other keys were in that coat pocket too, I think.” 

“Dumbass.” 

“Shut up. The only reason you even remember to wear a coat ever is because your mom’s girlfriend has to _tell you_ to wear it _—_ ” 

“Lies and slander,” Jared insists, pinching Evan’s hand and snickering when he yips and tries to pull away. “Don’t test me. I drove here. I _will_ hit you with my car.” 

That makes Evan laugh, though, but it only lasts for a few seconds before it dies off completely and he’s left staring sort of wide-eyed at Jared. Shit. 

“I - fuck, uh, was that too much? I didn’t actually _—_ ” 

“Your _car,”_ Evan repeats softly, and Jared blinks a few times in confusion. 

“Uh, my car?” 

“We could’ve been sitting in _your car_ ,” Evan says, “instead of freezing _out here_.” 

Oh.

Jared’s mouth falls open, and he looks between Evan and his fucking _car_ , that has _heat_ , that they could’ve been sitting in this _entire fucking time_ , literally why didn’t he think of that, that probably should’ve been the first thing he offered when Evan said that he was locked out, what the _fuck —_

“We’re.. _both_ dumbasses, apparently,” Jared says so softly and so deadpan that Evan ends up bursting out laughing, doubling over, and Jared’s hand is still in his so it means his arm gets tugged down with Evan so he ends up just sort of slumping against the other boy, and it’s all so _stupid_ that Jared ends up cackling too, and Evan ends up dissolving into giggles while being propped up against Jared with his cheek smushed a little against his shoulder, and like. 

Don’t get him wrong, they had so much shit they needed to sort out and probably talk about before they could be totally alright again, for things to actually sorta get better, but.. they would. They were going to. Jared believed that they would now, more than anything. 

Their laughter starts to die down when Jared almost suggests that they go to his car now before one of them gets frostbite, but the sight of headlights growing closer gets both of their attentions. The familiar car pulls speedily into Evan’s driveway, and Evan carefully untangles himself from Jared and shakily pulls himself to his feet. 

The car’s engine shuts off almost as soon as the car is parked, and Heidi seems to be scrambling to get out of the car, texting furiously, before she suddenly stops when she realizes the two of them are standing on the porch.

“E-Evan?” She sounds a little breathless, and shocked, and.. maybe sort of panicked, which gives Jared a good idea why she might be home earlier than she usually is for a Saturday. 

Evan’s arms wrap sheepishly around his middle, and just like how he was with Jared before, it’s hard for him to actually look up. He stops just at the bottom of the porch. “I.. um. Hi,” There’s so much fear laced into his voice that it sort of makes Jared’s heart ache. 

And before Evan can get any other words out or Jared could stand up to be next to Evan and maybe reassure him, Heidi is rushing forward and pulling him into a hug, her face pressed into his neck and a hand finding its way to his hair and.. fuck, okay, she might be crying or _almost_ crying and she’s saying something to Evan and Jared catches ‘Facebook’ and ‘letter’ and ‘Connor’ and suddenly Jared feels like he shouldn’t, like. Be intruding on this. 

He politely sort of looks away, ignoring the hushed words and the way Evan’s muffled voice starts to wobble again. 

“Of course I’m not mad at you, why would I _—_ just, c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get inside,” She turns towards the steps, and Jared takes that cue to stand up and awkwardly shuffle out of their way. 

Heidi noticed him earlier, but it seems like she doesn’t seem to actually register him til now. “Jared? I - does your parents know you’re here?” 

“Yeah, yeah they - they do. We were just.” He glances at Evan momentarily. “Talking.” Evan hums gently in agreement. 

Saying Heidi’s eyes light up would be an overstatement, but something does lighten a little in her extremely worried expression. “Oh! Oh, um. That’s..” She starts to unlock the door, raising her eyebrows a little at the two. “Did you need a few more minutes to..?”

“Oh, um, no, it’s okay,” Jared says quickly, shaking his head. He figures that Heidi knows probably next to nothing about any of this, and that Evan probably needs to actually talk to her. Especially given that, from what little that he did hear, she knew just from reading the note online that it was Evan’s therapy assignment. 

“Okay,” she says gently, looking between him and Evan. Evan walks up the porch steps and turns to look back at Jared too, a sort of.. pinched, conflicted look on his face. 

“Um,” he pulls on the hem of his hoodie. “I - text me, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Jared nods, “I - yeah. Yeah.” 

Evan nods back. 

“Drive safe, sweetie!” Heidi calls after him, and he calls back that he will. 

By the time he gets situated inside his car, the front door of the Hansen house is closed again and he can see through the living room window that the lights are on. And then he breaths a long, heavy sigh. Turns his car on. Starts driving back. There’s no way that he didn’t already miss dinner, but he tells himself that he’s driving this slowly because he’s avoiding black ice, not because his moms are probably going to be a little pissed that he took this long.

His fingers drum restlessly against the wheel. It’s.. hard to really predict what’s going to happen next — with the Murphy’s, with the note, with Alana or The Connor Project or with _Evan_ , but.. unlike how he felt a few days ago (or hell, even just _this morning_ ), he had some inkling of hope that things would.. maybe be okay. Not perfect, and definitely not how they were before, but they’d be okay. 

His moms aren’t too thrilled that he comes home way later than he said he would, but oh well. 

This all happened in the span of a few hours, but by the time Jared flops back into his bed, it feels like it’s been days since he’s been back. (Partially because of all the emotional vulnerability shit being exhausting, yeah, but also because he still had yet to get complete feeling back into his toes.) 

He burritos himself in his blankets and is almost comfortable when his phone buzzes on his nightstand. He groans, wiggling until his arm is free so he can retrieve it and squint at the notification. 

_if i’m sick tomorrow, i’m telling my mom it’s your fault_

Jared, despite himself, grins a little and rolls his eyes. It falters just a little when he sees the old messages above them, the ones from a little over a week ago that were bitter and angry, and for a second he considers just deleting them, but instead his fingers just move to the keyboard to type a response back. 

_make sure u also tell her u forgot ur coat_

It was far from perfect, but nothing about them had ever been. 

It’d take time, and it’d take actually fucking _talking_ , and it’d take the shit ton of emotional vulnerability that Jared was always inclined to believe he didn’t actually posess, but they were going to fix this shit and make it work. In the midst of this whole disaster, they were going to make sure that this was the one piece that survived. 

Jared hadn’t been on a mission tonight to fix the one and only actual genuine friendship he’d ever had, but _God,_ he’s glad that that’s what might’ve come out of this. 

On top of, like, finally being able to get out that Evan _did_ matter to him. Despite everything, and despite whether or not the other boy even believed him. Even now, the thought that Evan felt so utterly hopeless and alone still made this awful, empty feeling settle into Jared’s stomach, and if anything else it was important that he told Evan regardless of anything, hey, people _did_ care about him, they’d notice if he just wasn’t here one day. 

  
  


_k i’m falling asleep, update me on ur plights tmrw_

_ok yeah_

_i’ll be here_

Jared allows himself the smallest of smiles, carefully reaching back over to plug his phone back into the charger, set it on his nightstand, and slip off his glasses and set them next to it. 

Evan would be here. That’s really all Jared could ask for. 


End file.
